ChaCha the R4pe Doll
by Killjoy Whatsername
Summary: Alfred Jones, a student at World Academy, realizes how creepy the wrestling team's training dummy looks. He's constantly fighting Ivan, who said the dummy looked rather suggestive, yet the lifeless figure somehow brought the two closer. Gakuen AU RusAme
1. Chapter 1: Frienemies

**I really shouldn't be uploading a new story, but I just can't update the others. HetaCraft is still going, and my other Hetalia stories are dormant. Everything else is dead.**

**This is based on the training dummy in my school's field house. My friend came up with a name for it, thus the title.**

**Warning: RusAme frienemy-ship (Alfred and Ivan trolling/ trying to kill each other), this is told in Alfred's perspective, some crack**

**2 OC's are also mentioned but don't play an important part in the story. **

**José- OC Mexico**

**Maria- OC Philippines**

**Also appearances by Grandpa Rome, Mr. UN, and Fem! England **

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Frienemies<strong>

Gym class is usually fun. Except when my stupid gym shorts creep down my thighs when Mr. Weillschmidt makes us do crunches. I also hate it whenever our class has to do running, which is today. Too bad the football unit ended last week.

We were standing in front of our lockers, changing into those annoying shorts I previously mentioned. My brother, Matthew, was right next to me.

"Alfred, don't stare!" he whispered like he was yelling. Matt couldn't seem to talk loudly when he tried.

"I'm not staring! I have the feeling someone else is watching you get dressed so I'm trying to protect my little bro,"

"Technically, I'm older than you," he said after pulling his shirt down.

"Yeah, but I'm the hero of the family! So are you running today? 'Cause I don't feel like it,"

"I don't know. If only they had hockey as a choice,"

"Look, Mattie, just because you spent the first seven years of your life in Canada doesn't mean you have to rub it it my face. So are you running or not?"

"I don't know, Al. I promised Ivan I would go with his choice for this week,"

I jumped backwards and hit some guy when he mentioned that name.

"Whoa. Ivan? Ivan Braginsky? As in Ivan Psycho-Commie-Who-Tried-To-Murder-Me-Eight-Times Braginsky?"

"Alfred, Ivan's not a psycho or a commie. And I'm pretty sure he didn't try to murder you eight times,"

"Yeah, you're right. He tried to murder me _nine_ times, including the time he tried to shove my sock down my throat,"

"That's because you shoved pencils up his nostrils,"

"Because he tried to make me swallow a freaking _plastic bag_!"

"You two should stop fighting before one of you gets hospitalized,"

"Remember the time he put a cleaver in our mailbox?"

"He's not such a bad guy if you don't constantly try to kill him,"

"Mattie, that's the same guy who modified his Nerf gun and shot you in the legs when we were eight. One foam bullet even pierced through my skin! Why are you friends with that guy?"

"Yeah. I would come home with bruises covering my legs and Papa would make me crepes with maple syrup so I would stop crying," What's with him and nostalgia anyway?

"We should go before we're late," I interrupted.

"But I need to wait for Ivan,"

I stood on one of the benches in the locker room and yelled at the top of my lungs "Braginsky, you commie! Get your homicidal butt over here! Your boyfriend's waiting for you!"

No sign of him yet. Just the hysterical laughter of a bunch of other guys and Matthew blushing, until he yelled back.

"I didn't know you thought of me that way, Alfred! I'm so flattered!"

The laughing continued.

"Hahaha! Al, that's so gay!" One of my friends snickered. Ha, snickered. I like Snickers bars, they taste good.

"Shut up, José! And listen, you commie! Say that again and I'll see how you like _your_ sock shoved down _your_ throat!"

"That's okay because my socks probably don't smell like rotting garbage unlike yours!"

"Why, you mentally unstable commie!"

Then, the door slammed open.

"Who is yelling?" a strict voice with a heavy German accent boomed from the entrance.

"It was Alfred and Ivan, sir!" José told on us.

"Oh, alright then," Weillschmidt closed the door and walked away.

Yeah, this is an everyday scene in our PE locker room, so the teacher doesn't care anymore if it's Braginsky and I fighting.

"Let's go, Matt," I told my brother.

"So Alfred, about your confession, I'm sorry but I'm not attracted to you-"

"Shut your trap, vodka-breath!"

He hit the back of my head with his fist, and my glasses fell to the tiled floor. I picked them up and continued walking.

"You know, Maria and Elizabeta told me 'The more you hate somebody, the more you love them.' Do you love me, Alfred?"

"Ew! Hell no! And you talked to Maria? What did you do to her?"

"Don't be so worried about your ex. I'm not trying to kill her or anything,"

"You better not be forcing her to become one with you or-"

"So I heard Weillschmidt is watching the run for today," he totally ignored me.

"Which Weillschmidt? The awesome one, or the one who acts like he has a stick shoved up his butt," that's what I hate about teachers having the same name, especially if one is a strict tight-ass, and the other one is someone you want to spend your weekend playing video games with.

"I'm not sure, but yesterday, I saw the strict Weillschmidt talking to a stick in the parking lot. He even called it Herr Schtick and talked about feeding it wurst,"

"Dude, I don't know if you're a credible source unlike Wikipedia but that is hilarious!"

I cracked up and so did he. It's one of those times when we actually get along until he ruins the moment.

"Not as hilarious as the camera I installed in your bathroom window when you were asleep," just like that.

He was still laughing hysterically but I stopped.

"Okay, man, that's just disturbing,"

His laugh turned into that creepy, evil Russian laugh he does whenever Raivis messed with him. Something like "Kol kol kol kol kol kol..." and I swear that I saw a purple aura around him every time he did it.

We were already in the field house when we stopped our...chatting. It turned out that Herr Schtick-Weillschmidt was watching the run.

"Jones and Braginsky are doing the run together," Herr Schtick-Weillschmidt said in monotone. "Right, would you boys prefer doing separate activities instead?"

"Nope, I'm good," I said acting all cool.

"As long as you don't try to trip me when I'm running, Jones. We both know I always end up breaking your leg every time you do that," said the psycho.

"Actually, you broke my hand the last time I did that because you sat on it and you're so fat!"

"This, Jones," he pointed at his body, "is mostly muscle, unlike your overweight behind caused by your everyday diet of McDonald's,"

"Enough!" Weillschmidt roared. "You two, start running now! Everyone else, you are walking for two minutes!"

And so, I pushed my legs to start moving. I'm so ahead of Braginsky's fat ass. I'm like ten yards ahead of him. Wait- did he just pass by me?

"You wanna race, huh?"

I sped up a little and started sprinting. I ran two laps and I was behind him again, so when I was inches away from him, I put my foot between his legs and pulled them apart so he tripped. Instead, he caught himself and fell on purpose by elbowing me in the gut and falling backwards on top of me. Ew, not that kind of on top of me. _(*cough* fangirls *cough*)_

Weillschmidt blew on his whistle and called our names.

"You two! Stop goofing off! Braginsky, get up and run the other way on the third lane! Jones, fourth lane, same direction! Go!" he blew on his whistle again.

So, I ran with my left arm in the normal jogging position and my right arm stretched in front of me like Superman when he flies. So when Ivan and I approached each other at full speed, I punched him on the chest with all that force. The whistle blew again.

"Jones! Get on the first lane!"

I ran on the border between the first and second lane. I saw Ivan coming. I laid down on the second and third lane and he tripped on my legs. Bullseye!

I forgot to get up so he stepped on my face.

The whistle blew again.

"You two, fifty pushups at the back corner of the room!"

I hate both of them now.

So I obeyed his command and started doing pushups. Not "girl" pushups, the hero doesn't do that. Ivan wasn't even trying, how unheroic. The psycho commie was busy staring at the wrestling team's training dummy.

"Hey, Alfred, ChaCha is staring at your overweight behind," he said childishly.

Ivan is such a kid sometimes.

"Who?"

"ChaCha the Rape Doll. You're doing your pushups wrong and your behind is up in the air, so ChaCha is staring at you,"

"Don't be stupid, Ivan-" I looked behind me and Ivan stood next to the creepy wrestling dummy.

It was a thick, 3D stick figure made of some kind of black cloth and whatever stuffed animals were stuffed with, attached to the blue and green wall, sitting on an invisible chair with its legs spread apart, its arms wide open for a Pedobear-approved hug, and its faceless head just staring into your soul. And it was right behind me while I was doing pushups.

"It looks kind of suggestive in my point of view," Ivan laughed.

I stopped at fifteen pushups and stood up.

"Let's see how you like ChaCha's deadly hugs, Braginsky!" I threatened.

The freak just went in front of the dummy and hugged it. He hugged it.

"ChaCha is my best friend, da?" he smiled. The lifeless training dummy's arms and legs wrapped around him like a woman in those soap operas José, Yong Soo, and Maria liked to watch.

The whistle blew again.

"Braginsky! This is not wrestling practice!" the teacher screamed at Ivan's face and hurt my ears.

Ivan held on to ChaCha and smirked at Weillschmidt. I never saw Ivan smirk like that before, except this one time he gave me food poisoning by messing with my cheeseburger.

He slowly let go of the dummy and whispered to me "Alfred, let's piss him off,"

I knew exactly what to do.

That's how Ivan and I ended up skipping around Herr Schtick-Weillschmidt like little girls and bronies around a unicorn. We had our derp-faces on while chanting "ChaCha! ChaCha! ChaCha!" without end.

"Principal's office! Immediately!" Herr Schtick-Weillschmidt ordered.

Braginsky and I merrily skipped out of the field house and through the hallways with our arms interlocked, still chanting "ChaCha! ChaCha! ChaCha!"

We never stopped doing it, even when we entered the office. The secretary, Mr. Vargas- yeah, the secretary is a guy- stared at us like we're bigger idiots than his grandsons, who also went to our school. Then, we took each other's hands, not homo, and we went round and round like my mom's old records.

"I assume you two were sent here to see Mr. UN. Go now," Mr. Vargas said.

Braginsky and I pranced into Mr. UN's office, and we still sang "ChaCha! ChaCha! ChaCha!"

The frustrated principal sighed "Didn't I tell you two that I'll expel you the next time you fight?"

We just kept dancing in the circle singing "ChaCha! ChaCha! ChaCha!"

Mr. UN pressed a couple buttons on the desk phone. Yeah, he had our guardians on speed dial.

"Hello, Katyusha? Yes, it's about Ivan. Alright, thank you," he's even on first name terms with them, since they talked so much already.

"Hello, Alice? Yes, Alfred was misbehaving again. Okay, thank you, ma'am," the conversations even went as short as five seconds. Principal calls home, Mum comes here, we get threatened to get expelled- Yes, threatened. It came to the point where warnings were pointless- and that's how it went for a long time now.

We continued to sing "ChaCha! ChaCha! ChaCha!" without tiring out our lungs. It got on everyone's nerves.

"Be quiet!"

We never listened.

"ChaCha! ChaCha! ChaCha!"

I started to shake my booty and flail my arms while Ivan was speed-Cossack dancing until he slipped and fell. We laughed while chanting "ChaCha! ChaCha! ChaCha!" and Mr. UN called security. We got dragged away to an empty classroom with a supervisor, who had to endure the never ending ChaCha merriment. We grew out of breath slowly, so Ivan recorded our voices in his iPhone, which he hid in his jacket with the volume at full blast. I thought I saw the supervisor's left eye twitch as the phone went "ChaCha! ChaCha! ChaCha!" on loop while Ivan and I danced in a circle again while lip-syncing the words.

Half an hour later, my legs felt like Jello. The supervisor cried in the emo corner and we continued dancing until Ivan's hot sister and my nagging British mum entered the room.

"Vanya, are you okay?" his sister asked with concern.

"Someone broke Alfred!" my mum said.

"Wait, are they getting along?"

"I don't believe it!"

"ChaCha! ChaCha! ChaCha!"

"Alfred F. Jones, stop this nonsense at once!"

"Oh dear, Ivan! Can you hear me?"

"Will you two bloody wankers quit dancing and listen up!" Alice finally lost it.

The supervisor looked up and probably questioned her parenting skills and why I ended up like this.

"Yes, Mother?" I tried to do a puppy dog face.

"That face isn't working, Alfred,"

"Why is it that the big guy can pull off the cute puppy face and I can't?"

Seriously, Ivan was doing it and he actually looked cute. Ew, not that way! Cute like a kitten in a cup, not cute like his hot sister.

"What did you do this time, you git?"

"You know, the usual. We tried to kill each other,"

"Continue,"

"And then we found ChaCha and became friends,"

"What?" Alice and Katyusha both gasped. The supervisor's eye twitched.

**To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 2: Sleepovers Are For Men Too

**New Chapter is up! Sorry, fangirls, I don't ship RusAme in a Yaoi way, but there's some hinted bromance in this fic. There's also some FrUK and Belarus in here. If I switch Belarus' human name from Natalya to Natasha multiple times, her name is Natalya but Natasha is the nickname Ivan gave her.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Sleepovers are for Men Too<strong>

"I'm home! Kat? Natasha?"

I'm an idiot. My biggest regret so far was following Ivan home. I haven't been to his place in years but, that's because his place scared me, but not that much because heroes are brave. No, there weren't any severed heads lying on the kitchen counter ,or blood stained walls, or knives flying everywhere- I stand corrected, there _were_ knives flying at certain places. And that's why I didn't like visiting Ivan.

It only had been a day since the ChaCha incident. Apparently, "Go visit Ivan and spend time with him" was my punishment. I'd rather have no internet for a month. Not a month, just a week. Fine, three days. I'd rather have no internet for three days.

"Oh, Natasha, you're here," Ivan looked at a girl in front of him. She was probably three years younger than us, yet she pointed a kitchen knife between my eyes and said something to Ivan. I didn't know what they were talking about, I don't speak Russian! But I could tell that Ivan was scared...of a little girl.

She inched her face closer to his and Ivan slowly moved away. She said something, again it was in Russian, and Ivan yelled a word that I did understand, "_Нет_!" which means "No!" and then he ran away and hid behind a bush in his lawn. She still pointed the knife at me.

"Are you trying to steal my brother away?"

"H-hey...You must be Natalya...haven't seen you in a while...Remember me?...Alfred?"

"Yes, you hit my brother with my dining chair,"

"He did it first!" I pointed at the bush, which then Ivan peeked out of and said "Alfred, can you tell me if Katyusha is here so I can come out?"

"Be a man Ivan! She's just a girl!"

"Can't you see she's wielding a knife?"

Natalya pushed me out of the way and went back to Ivan. The only word I was able to pick up from what she said was "Alabama."

"Dude, what was it this time?" I asked him.

"She wants us to move to Alabama and get married," his voice shook.

"Why Alabama?" now I have the song "Sweet Home Alabama" stuck in my head.

"She heard it was legal there..."

"Really?"

"But it's probably if we're third cousins! I am not marrying my sister!"

"He doesn't love you!" Natalya pointed the knife at me again. I could see where her psycho trait rubbed off from.

"Go away!" Ivan cried before his Tetris Theme ringtone started playing.

He answered the phone and I overheard the conversation.

"What do you mean you can't come home tonight? Please, Katyusha, you can't leave me alone with Natalya! But- Of course she can take care of herself! Yes, we banned her from the kitchen but she somehow smuggled another knife into her room. I will try. Goodbye," he hung up and put his iPhone away and whispered to me again.

"Meet me at the back door,"

Plotting something, eh, Braginsky?

"Excuse me for a second, Natasha," he dashed inside the house and his sister came running after him.

"I might as well do it," I shrugged. Hopefully, nobody found it suspicious that I was climbing someone's fence to get to their backyard. Stupid Ivan didn't bother unlocking the gate for me.

I leaned against the wall for about a minute until I heard him slam the back door. He was panting and he held bags. _Bags_? Don't tell me he's-

"You don't mind if I spend the night at your place, da? I called Matthew and he's asking your parents now,"

"Brother! Open the door this instant!" now the girl sounded like a ghost from a horror movie. Wait- GHOSTS! They scare me.

"Run, Jones, run! And help me lift my bags,"

"How many bags do you need for one night anyway?"

"Shut up and climb the fence! Hurry before she goes out the front door!" if someone heard our conversation without knowing what was really going on, it probably sounded like we were robbing a house.

I was against him staying at my place, but this was fun. Escaping from a crazy chick like his sister gave me that adrenaline rush. What's your favorite part? Oh, I like that too. My favorite part was _climbing the fence_! This is why I hate Dora the Explorer.

Since it rained this morning, the ground was still wet and muddy. I got the stuff splashed all over my favorite jeans, trying to climb that fence, so I dropped Ivan's bag on the other side as payback. And then, he used that bag to hit me in the face before we ran to my house.

Before we ran, we actually landed in his neighbor's backyard. I felt sorry for the old lady who was just watering her plants until a couple of "young hooligans" invaded her garden after "robbing the house next door."

"Sorry, ma'am, no time to explain," that's what I said right before Ivan and I bolted to my front door. I hope the old lady didn't faint...or call the cops. You know what, let her faint. It's a _miracle_ that Braginsky and I still aren't _arrested_ by now.

Too lazy to grab my house key, I frantically rang the doorbell multiple times until an irritated Matthew opened the door. I still pushed the button, like, ten more times, anyway.

"You may come in, Ivan, _Alfred_. Seriously, Al, you'll break the doorbell,"

I still tapped on the little button, making a repetitive buzzing noise until I heard my cue.

"Who's making all that bloody noise?" that's the one.

"Over here, Mother!" I called out.

"Alfred, you git! How many times have I told you not to play with the doorbell?"

"Oh, and Ivan's here too by the way!"

"Don't lie, Alfred!" she yelled.

"See for yourself!"

"I think you should stop tormenting your parents," Ivan had that fake innocent face on again.

"Well, I think you shouldn't be setting a bad example for your sister! How do you think she ended up that insane in the first place?" I mean, really? He's got to be the reason why his whole family is insane.

Alice casually walked downstairs to greet us.

"Good afternoon, Ivan. Hello, Matthew. There's mud on your face, Alfred,"

"It's Ivan's fault!"

"Grow up, Alfred!" she scolded.

"So, Ivan, you came to uh- _hang out_ with Matthew?"

"Actually," I interrupted, "He's hiding from his-"

"Yes. I'm here for Matthew's sleepover,"

"Ew! No way, dude! That's only for girls!"

"Unless you don't want it to be,"

"You two, no fighting!"

"Yes, Mother," we said at the same time.

"Hey! She's _my_ mom, not yours!" I grabbed the psycho's neck and tried to choke him.

"I can address my in-laws as my parents when I feel like it," he tried to strangle me as well.

"What. Are. You. Thinking. We are not married. Matt doesn't like you that way. And she can hear you!"

"We became one in your sleep,"

"You're insane!"

"Why, thank you,"

"Don't make me call Natalya!"

Right then, he suddenly let go of my neck and I almost lost my balance.

"Please, not Natalya! Anything but her!"

"I bet she's waiting just outside that door for you," I stuck my head out the window and yelled, "Hey, Natalya! Your brother said he wants to move to Alabama with you so you can get married and have inbred babies together!"

"He's only joking, Natasha!" he yelled out the door. I doubt the girl even heard us from here.

"Alfred, I would ground you, but the fact that you two will have to spend the night together is enough of a punishment," Alice really knew my weakness. I mean, not that kind of weakness! Ivan is just someone...he was not my kryptonite. Okay, just stop with the dirty thoughts, you're not my father. Like, seriously, Francis always found a way to make something sound suggestive. _Always_.

That's one more problem to add to the list. Besides the fact that Ivan was in _my_ house and was going to be sleeping in _my_ bedroom tonight, my perverted Papa Francis made what I just said a whole lot worse. So, thank Mattie for taking Ivan away so they could play hockey in our basement. I don't know how they do it. We had a huge basement with hardwood flooring, that's enough said.

While they were playing some violent sport downstairs in the middle of spring, I came up with another plan to get my revenge on that psycho.

"Hey, Mum!" I called Alice.

"What is it?" she asked grumpily, looking up from her novel.

"Papa's making dinner tonight, right?"

"Yes, he is,"

"Yeah, change of plans. Can you cook for tonight, please? I haven't eaten any of your cooking in a long time and I kind of miss that,"

"Alfred, you said that you- and I quote 'would rather eat our cat stuffed with Kumajiro's fur, than swallow that disgusting who-knows-what-that-is,'"

"But I was only ten!"

"Matthew cried and our cat ran away for two days,"

"Well, now I know how to appreciate grown-up food, so I'd like to try some of your 'who-knows-what-that-is,'"

"Even Francis complained about my cooking and that's how he ended up belonging in the kitchen,"

"Even just for dessert? Come on, I'm sure Ivan would love to try your d-delicious scones," I stuttered at my lie.

Alice looked me in the eyes and didn't change her frown.

"Is this what it's about? You want your uh- _friend_ to eat my cooking,"

"_And possibly get diarrhea_," I thought silently.

"Well, maybe he would like it," I smiled.

"You insult my cooking, years later tell me that you like it and that you want to feed it to the one you're constantly trying to injure. Alfred, I can read you like this book," Oh hell no, not the British pokerface. Not the British pokerface! It's my second kryptonite, but I'm not saying what the first one is (*cough* hamburgers *cough*).

Not that same British pokerface that got me to admit that I broke Francis' vase! Stay strong, Alfred.

"Just make sure you don't burn the scones this time. Honestly, they would probably taste good if you didn't burn them every single time," I managed to choke out.

Great job, Alfred.

Now she just looks pissed.

"Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"Um- I'm just s-saying that your scones have some room for improvement. Nothing more, nothing less," My voice kind of cracked as I shut my eyes and curled myself up. Here it comes...

British pokerface.

"Don't you have homework to do?"

"It's Friday,"

"That doesn't give you a reason to procrastinate,"

"So, will you make the scones?" I attempted the puppy dog eyes again.

British pokerface.

"We'll see," she said in monotone.

I couldn't tell whether or not she was being sarcastic. So all I could do was wait until dinner.

Nothing interesting really happened between that second and dinner, except for this one moment where Ivan gave us the most disturbing present ever. So, what happened?

I was halfway done with my math problems when I got bored and stopped trying when Ivan and Mattie barged into my room. I was only wearing my Super Mario boxers. Don't judge me, I have two reasons to do my homework in my underpants. First, it was like a hundred degrees, Fahrenheit not Celsius, in my room and the AC broke. Second, I thought it would be funny if Mum was the one who barged into my room like that. It just had to be Ivan. So, I wrapped my blanket around myself, faster than the speed of light like a superhero.

Matt sort of just blended in with the background.

Ivan laughed "I'm sorry, Alfred. I didn't know you were busy jerking-"

"I wasn't, you commie!"

"Are those math problems? Alfred, you have a bizarre choice of-"

His words were cut off when I jumped on him and attacked. Of course, with strangulation. Insane as he was, he just kept laughing.

The next guy who enters the room deserves a Worst Timing award. Congratulations, Francis, you won. And you probably- not 'probably', _definitely_ got the wrong idea.

Apparently, Papa just got home from work, and rather than pestering Mum, he just went straight upstairs and walked by my room. The door was wide open, I was in my underpants, it was like an oven in my room so I was covered in sweat, Ivan was pinned to the floor, we were strangling each other, my blanket was over my back, and Matt was unnoticed. I'm expecting the man-to-man talk sometime soon. Probably at the most awkward time, when the whole family plus Ivan are together while eating.

I did the most logical thing and put a shirt on. Then, Ivan untied one of the bags he was carrying with him. It was a black trash bag with bulky contents, sort of like a humanoid figure. Don't tell me he's planning to hide a dead body in my house. Carefully, he took out a sloppily made, fat, life-sized stick figure and duct taped it to my wall.

"Do you like it? I made a replica of ChaCha last night," he said while _stroking_ the figure's arm.

Speechless.

"See, Matthew," Ivan said, "Now all you have to do is ask your brother to do pushups in front of ChaCha whenever you're bored,"

"Take that thing down right now, Braginsky!" I screamed.

"Oh my, you are blushing, Alfred," he giggled.

"My face," I moved my hand in a circle around my head to point out my awesome face, "is red from anger! I'm not some embarrassed schoolgirl! I'm freaking mad at you!"

He never took it down.

Fast forward to after dinner time. Thankfully, no man-to-man talk was brought up. Mum was reading English literature while the scones were busy getting incinerated in the oven. Mattie was watching French television and I was playing Command and Conquer: Red Alert multiplayer with Ivan.

"You suck at this game, Alfred! Soviets win again!"

"No fair! You dropped a bomb on my base when I was constructing my airfield!"

I heard Mum comment from behind "It's a good thing they're only trying to kill each other in video games this time," before I heard moaning and smooch noises.

"Are you guys snogging in front us again?" I whined like a little kid.

No response. Just my parents French kissing for maybe the next five minutes or so.

"Are they usually like this?" Ivan wondered.

"Yeah! One day they're trying to strangle each other and the following night, you hear weird noises coming from their bedroom,"

"Just like us, da?"

"Ew! Not the second part! We don't even share a bedroom!"

"We do for tonight,"

"Don't push it, Braginsky!"

"Hahaha!"

"I mean it! You. Are. Being. A. Creeper!" I screamed the last word into his ear.

"I was joking. Don't be stupid, I don't think of you _that_ way,"

My fist shook, ready to punch his annoyingly innocent face while I could hear the snogging in the background. Ivan smirked one more time and whispered to me what might be turning into his new catchphrase, "Alfred, let's piss them off."

"How?"

"By pretending the second part is true,"

Before I was able to react, I lost my train of thought from the smell of burning pastries and the beeping fire alarm.

"Mum! Scones are on fire!" I yelled.

"I know!" Alice ran to the kitchen.

"But we're not done, _mon chou!_"

I laughed a bit because Mattie told me that "_mon chou_" means "my cabbage" and is used as a name of affection. French is weird.

Now, all I had to do was give Ivan the diarrhea inducing scones and give Matthew nightmares.


	3. Chapter 3: Dating a Communist

**Alright, there's still no Yaoi in this chapter, there never will be, but let's say that the others got the wrong idea. Part of this chapter is inspired by an episode of Seinfeld, which I don't own, and neither do I own Hetalia.**

**Warning: America pretends to be the uke**.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Dating a Communist<strong>

As much as I hate to admit it, "Matthew's Sleepover" last Friday was actually kind of fun. Mostly because I beat Ivan three times in Command and Conquer. He actually won more games than I did, and Mum threw the scones away before I tricked him into eating one, but giving my family mentally disturbing images was the highlight. So what happened?

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><p>This part of the story is best told in third person perspective.<p>

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><p>"Are you sure you don't want to sleep in my room tonight, Matt?" Alfred called out from his bed.<p>

"I'll be fine. I'd rather not get in the way when you two try to kill each other in your sleep. Well, good night, Al," Matthew waved as he closed the door behind him.

"Good night, bro!"

He groggily dragged his feet into his bedroom next door. He flicked off his light switch and snuggled Kumajiro, until a realization hit him.

"Ivan is sleeping in Alfred's room and they're not trying to push each other out the window,"

To that thought, Matthew put down his polar bear and took his glasses from the nightstand. He pulled up his blinds and looked out the window.

"Well, not yet, anyway," he set down his glasses on the same spot, tucked himself in with the bear, and closed his eyes, slowly drifting to a good night's sleep.

Until he heard the noises.

They were muffled at first. Typical arguing between the two, followed by fits of chuckling, and then came the noises similar to what Matthew sometimes heard from his parents' room.

"Can't Papa and Mum wait until we're asleep," he said to himself. Matthew disregarded the thought when he heard the words "No, Ivan! Stop!"

Frozen in shock, he forced himself to get out of bed and check on his brother.

"Alfred? Are you okay?" he tried opening Alfred's door but it was locked.

"Alfred! Ivan! What's going on, eh?"

Meanwhile in the other room, Alfred was jumping on his bed while Ivan faced the wall to speak, so the others would hear. Every few seconds, they would stay away from the wall to hold back their laughter then come back to Operation: Scar Matthew's Innocent Brain.

"Say something, Braginsky!" Alfred whispered.

"Like what?" Ivan gritted through his teeth.

"Say something that you would rather marry Natalya than say it,"

Ivan snapped his fingers and cupped his hands around his mouth. He said to the wall "Are you enjoying this, Alfred?"

"Oh, Ivan!" Alfred pretended to swoon over him with a feminine voice while mocking a girly-girl pose.

Then, it was time for another session of holding back laughter.

"I love you, Alfred!" Ivan said to the wall, looked at the Alfred, then made a vomit gesture.

"I love you more!" Alfred sighed like a lovesick woman, then pretended to choke himself.

In his parents' bedroom next door, Alice and Francis had their ears against the wall.

"Ah! Yes! Yes!"

"Francis, can you hear them?" Alice said sternly.

"What? Why isn't my son the dominant this time?" Francis leaned closer to the wall.

"What do you mean by 'this time'?" Alice grabbed the collar of her husband's shirt.

Back in Alfred's room, the two of them were each kissing the back of their own hands loudly. Alfred proceeded to jumping on his bed again while squealing like a woman and Ivan was in the far corner, laughing creepily. Without them realizing it, Alice had used a spare key and unlocked the door. She kicked the door open, turned on the lights and sighed with relief. Francis looked disappointed and Matthew was wide-eyed. His paralyzation wore off and he said "Don't scare us like that!" to his brother.

Ivan stopped the creepy laughing, Alfred got off the bed, and they both laughed hysterically.

"Best prank ever! Right, dude?" Alfred clutched his side, hurting from laughter.

"Matthew! If only you could see the look on your face!" Ivan was literally rolling on the floor laughing.

Matthew and Francis ran downstairs to avoid what they saw coming. Alice's explosive scolding.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?" she screamed loud enough to be heard across the street. "Alfred, no internet for a month!"

Awkward silence.

Alice walked towards the door, muttering "Bloody _wankers_," then she thought "Maybe I shouldn't use that word because of its double meaning."

She gave the two boys the I'm-watching-you gesture and shut the door.

"Hey, Alfred," Ivan said.

"Yeah?"

"I wonder if Natasha will leave me alone if we do this again around her at my place,"

"Deal," Alfred asked Ivan for a fist bump, which he returned.

Once Ivan looked away, Alfred mouthed a couple swears and shook the pain off his hand.

* * *

><p>Basically, we scarred Mattie.<p>

It's Monday again. Such joy. For some reason, people were avoiding me when I walked down the hallway this morning...with Ivan! Of course, they would avoid him! If you value your life, stay away from that commie!

It was time for PE class that day and I entered my locker combination like always, changed my shirt, put on the shorts that creep up my thighs, and guarded Matthew. My routine wouldn't be complete without getting on the bench and yelling.

"Ivan! Get over here, now! ChaCha's waiting for you!"

"I'm pretty sure ChaCha only likes to stare at your overweight behind!" he yelled back.

"You think we should introduce Matt to ChaCha?"

José was across from me, staring at me with his head bent sideways.

"Something's different," he said.

"Like what?" I asked.

"You two aren't insulting each other,"

"He just said I had an 'overweight behind',"

"But that's the truth,"

"¡_Callate_!" I told him to shut up in Spanish.

"You actually got the word right, this time,"

I slapped myself across the face. Why? Was it really happening? Braginsky and I were g-getting along?

The insults did get less intense over the past few days and he actually walked with me around school. But it was true, I couldn't come up with good insults like I used to. Maybe it was the same for him, so I resorted to talking about what happened last Friday.

"I heard you were moving to Alabama to marry your sister!"

"Can you tell me why you were doing your homework in your underwear? Is that why your mother calls you 'wanker'?"

"You leave my mother out of this, you commie bastard!"

Enter, Herr Schtick-Weillschmidt.

"Who is yelling?"

Everyone covered their ears.

"Alfred and Ivan, sir," said José.

Weillschmidt massaged his temples and walked out. Matt looked at me.

He never spoke to me since last Friday night. He'll get over it. As usual, the three of us walked to the gym together as Ivan and I exchanged a few punches. A bit later, he started walking the opposite direction.

"Dude, field house is this way," I reminded him.

"Ah, my class is in the other gym,"

"Wait, you changed classes?"

"It wasn't my choice. After the ChaCha incident, Mr. UN said that I'll be with another teacher, starting today,"

"Which teacher?"

"Weillschmidt. The other one,"

"No fair! You get to be with Awesome-Weillschmidt and I'm stuck with Herr Schtick-Weillschmidt!"

"Look on the bright side, you can see ChaCha for today,"

"I won't be surprised if tomorrow, we both joined the wrestling team just so we could see ChaCha,"

We just walked away from each other without a proper "See ya!" or "Goodbye!"

Upon entering the field house, I laid my eyes on our beloved training dummy and ran towards it. Almost giving ChaCha a hug, I stopped with my arms in the air.

"It's not the same without Braginsky,"

Because only he would be crazy enough to take the whole ChaCha thing seriously. So we played basketball and I beat Mattie. Nothing interesting happened. I went to my boring old classes and walked through the halls with Ivan as we received a few stares.

So, fast forward to my favorite time of the day, lunch! I sat in my usual table by the vending machines with Matt and José, and I carried a paper bag with two big macs, large fries, two apple pies, and a double cheeseburger. In my other hand was a large diet coke, because I needed to watch my health.

Today, Ivan actually sat next to me and took one of my fries without permission. I slapped his hand and the fry fell to the table.

"Hey! No touchy-touchy the fries!"

"Okay," he replied and went for my double cheeseburger.

"Braginsky! What did I say?" I growled.

"You said not to touch the _fries_,"

"Well, that applies to the rest of my food...and other belongings!"

"If you're going to eat all of that, you're going to get a heart attack,"

"Don't you have your own food to eat and your own friends to bother?"

"But I want to sit with you," he whined.

"Why?" I asked sharply.

"So I could eat your fries like this," he took a handful of my delicious fries and rapidly ate them one at a time.

"Nooooo! My babies! Gimme back my fries!" I tried to choke him again.

"You want me to throw them up?"

"You know what, never mind I said anything,"

I just realized Matthew was sitting there the whole time when José went up to me and said "So Alfred, I heard rumors about you dating a communist. Is it true?"

Before I could scream "No!" Ivan laughed "Don't be silly! I am not a communist,"

"He didn't mean you, vodka-breath!" I stomped on his foot. He kicked my shin under the table. Don't ask how.

"Listen, José, I'm not dating a communist and I'm most certainly not dating that specific communist!"

"Hold on, so you two are-"

"No, we're not! Where did you hear this from anyway?" my eyes pointed at Matthew.

"Matt! Did you tell José that I'm dating a commie?"

"I never told José you were dating a commie," he whimpered.

"Dude, that sentence has, like, nine different meanings depending on which word you emphasize,"

"I _never_ told José that you were dating a commie!" he repeated with emphasis on the "never."

"Why are you blaming your brother, all of a sudden?" José asked me.

"Matthew heard weird noises coming from Alfred's room when I spent the night," leave it to Ivan to over complicate the situation.

From behind us, I heard someone say "Elizabeta! Your nose is bleeding!" and then a girl giggled "I'm fine, Roderich,"

"Let me rephrase that!" I chimed in.

"He had to sleep on my floor because he was hiding from his little sister when we decided it would be fun to prank my family, so we mimicked the noises I heard coming from my parents' room at certain nights, and you know what I'm talking about!" I took a deep breath after that speech.

"So let me get this straight," José looked at me, "Are you dating a communist?"

"I already told you, I'm not a communist," Ivan smiled.

"Yeah! Deny, deny, deny! Because that's what all you commies do!" I shook him.

"So you two are...together? I mean, how did Ivan know you that did your homework in your underwear?"

"Elizabeta, not again!"

"No we're not and he's lying!"

"I'm not a communist,"

"Are you sure that you're not in denial, too?" asked José.

"I have a non-communist girlfriend, dammit!" I retorted.

"Don't lie, Alfred," Ivan told me.

"I'm not lying," I managed to say smoothly.

"What's her name, then?"

I thought of using one of my ex's names.

'Maria,' I was about to say until I saw her sitting nearby.

'Viet?' I couldn't use that either because she was sitting next to Maria.

I was going to spout the first female name that I thought of.

'Betty?' Nope. He'll know it's fake.

'Alice?' Ew, not my mum.

'Kiku?' Can't use that. I have a friend named Kiku and he's a guy.

"Natasha!" Crap! What did I just say?

"She's not real," José stated.

"Actually," said Ivan, "Natasha is my sister," he made it worse.

"The hot one?"

"That's Katyusha and don't speak of her that way,"

"How does Natasha look like, Alfred?"

She tried to stab me the last time I saw her.

"Kol kol kol kol kol kol kol..."

Okay, I can't say anything bad about her.

"She's uh- pretty," and she wants to marry her brother.

"She has blonde hair, always wears a bow," and always carries a knife.

"She likes to wear blue," unlike her brother who dresses up in drab clothing like all commies do.

"She never gives up on anything," like forcing her brother to marry her.

"Someday, she wants to live a nice, simple life in Alabama," where she heard incestuous marriages were legal.

"And she's not a communist like her brother," she probably is but I have to make her sound appealing.

"She sounds fake,"

"Would you like to meet her, then?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, comrade,"

"Sure,"

Crap.

I turned around and whispered "Braginsky, we need a plan-"

When I looked at Ivan, he was halfway done with my double cheeseburger and my precious fries were all gone. I got on my knees and yelled.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"


	4. Chapter 4: Don't Steal My Fries Again

**You guys have no idea how much your reviews make me happy :)**

**Warning: Short Chapter, sudden change in narration voice, to the RusAme shippers: I put in some dramatic bonding time between them for your sake**

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><strong><br>**

**Chapter 4: Don't Steal My Fries Again**

This morning, the sun shone blindingly and radiated enough heat to make me sweat, despite the functioning AC in my classroom. When I stared out the window, I swore that I saw heat waves coming out of the ground, warping the view outdoors. The last thing I expected to happen this afternoon was rain. This was Midwestern USA, not Washington or England.

I walked home as the sky gave me a cold shower. I was a few blocks away from the Burger King I stopped by to pick up a couple whoppers and two large fries, in case Braginsky tried to steal them again.

I felt that my hair was dripping wet and so were the legs of my pants. However, my bomber jacket deflected some of the raindrops. In my left hand was a paper bag of burgers. The rain soaked the bag and it started to tear a little. I held the fries in my other hand, bringing the container to my mouth and eating the rain washed fries out of it as I walked, halting when I saw a shadow come up to me.

"Look at you, soaking wet. You're mother will yell at you again," the familiar voice behind me said in the tone my mother would.

And then I realized, the rain stopped pouring, at least above my head, when I looked up to see that I was standing beneath a black umbrella. The guy behind me wore a long, faded pink scarf with a familiar school uniform. Other than his shoes and the part of his trousers that touched the wet pavement, he was dry everywhere else.

"Ivan? Why did you bring an umbrella? It was burning hot this morning, and even the weather man didn't predict rain," I said without looking at him.

"You would think I'm crazy if I told you,"

"Go ahead,"

"Come on, Alfred, let's continue walking,"

"Okay," I spoke to him in monotone.

I forced my feet to move forward, splashing through the puddles. Ivan caught up to my pace, trying to keep his umbrella over both our heads. I didn't see the point, since I was already soaked.

"Let's stop here," I told him, rather as a command, when we were under a bus stop. Whenever I walked home during the winter, that stop would keep me warm, even if it was a partially open space. The curved, blue roof and the plastic walls blocked off the chilly wind when I needed it to.

"It will take longer if we stay out-"

"I don't want to go home,"

"Is your mother still angry about our joke?"

I silently nodded.

"Don't be so childish! If you stay out too late they are going to worry," he said cheerily.

"C'mon, Ivan. You're more childish than I'll ever be. And don't you want to kill time to stay away from Natalya?"

"That's true..."

We both paused for a few seconds, the sound of rain drops against the roof filled in the silence.

"So, what were you saying about the umbrella?" I reminded him.

"Da. Well, I had a dream last night that it was going to snow today,"

"A dream?"

"Yes, a dream. Do you hate how it starts to become sunny, then it starts snowing again on the first day of spring break?"

"Yeah. What does that have to do with anything?"

Ivan looked out the plastic wall with the bus schedules taped on it.

"Where I came from, the winters were always long and very cold," he touched the foggy plastic wall.

"I used to grow sunflowers to remind myself that there is still warmth, but they refused to bloom completely because of the cold. I would keep them as long as they would stay, it made me sad when I saw my sunflowers glazed with ice when the General paid a visit,"

"The General?"

"General Winter, they called the harsh season back in my home. Soldiers would fight wars in the freezing cold. I'm used to low temperatures by now, but I prefer to stay away from it,"

I wondered if that was why he wore a scarf in the summer.

"Natasha and I, we followed Katyusha a year after she found a job and moved to this country. I was glad that the seasons were less intense, and how my sunflowers looked happier here,"

Ivan stuck his hand out the bus stop, a few drops of water fell on his bare skin as he closed his palm.

"I like the rain. It's like snow, only it's melted. That means it's warmer and my sunflowers won't die,"

"And why did you bring the umbrella?" I asked him.

"I didn't want the snow to bother me, so I brought an umbrella to block it off,"

"It's not snowing, though,"

"It was in my dream. And it is now, but it's so warm that the snowfall is melted before leaving the sky,"

"The way you think, Ivan," I told him, "It's different from how...normal people think,"

"I know, Alfred," he still looked out through the transparent wall.

We went silent again, as the rain continued rambling about whatever rain does. Ivan opened his umbrella again and stepped out of the shelter.

"We killed enough time, let's take you home,"

"I don't get it," I looked at him, "There's no point of walking me home, I'm already soaked,"

"Isn't that what friends are for?" he gave me a confused look, pouting a little.

Friends? He considered me a friend?

I looked down at my fries, then back at him.

"Want one?"

"No thanks, I don't like fast food,"

"So you just stole my fries 'cause it's fun?"

"Basically. Come now, Matthew must be worried about you," he gestured for me to come with him.

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch upward for a second while I got up and followed my new friend. Together, we walked through the melted snowfall, slowly turning into a light drizzle. We took a turn at the row of identical houses, typically found in our suburbia. We stopped at my front porch by the red, blue, and white flower beds.

Without saying a word, Ivan turned around and headed back to the sidewalk.

"Wait, Ivan!" I called out.

He paused in the middle of a puddle and turned his head to look at me.

"Da?"

"Thanks," as much as I didn't want to, my body forced me to smile at him.

"It was nothing," he didn't continue walking. He just stood there and gazed at whatever was in front of him.

"And um- Ivan,"

"What is it?" this time, he looked up at the gray clouds.

"Wanna stay for a game of Command and Conquer for a while?"

He closed his umbrella,moved towards me, and said.

"Why not?"


	5. Chapter 5: You Suck at This Game

**Review if you liked the fan service in the previous chapter, or just some way to let me know people read this story because I'm not receiving emails from fanfiction for some reason.**

**I don't own Hetalia, Command and Conquer, and the Apple products.**

**Anyway, ChaCha needs more screen time, but the chapters around here would just be RusAme dramatic bonding time.**

**Warning: FrUK public display of affection, France gives a certain someone his version of man-to-man talk**

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><strong>Chapter 5: You Suck at This Game, Alfred, Soviets Win Again!<strong>

"Hey, Mum! Sorry if I'm soaking wet. I didn't know it was gonna rain," I quickly stripped off my jacket and muddy shoes under the doorframe.

"Oh, you're home, Alfred," she pushed her glasses up and returned to reading her literature.

I left my shoes randomly spread out on the carpet and hung my jacket on the nearest chair. I did it so many times that Mum gave up on telling me to put my clothes away properly.

"Alfred, my dear," she said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I decided that you are no longer grounded. I lost my temper, and I apologize for that. Besides, Francis will come up with a better punishment for you," she said calmly after taking a sip from a fancy little teacup.

"Oh yeah! Guess who's with me?"

"You brought a friend home?" she eyed me suspiciously.

"Yeah. Ivan found me walking in the rain, so he shared his umbrella with me. I was already wet, so it didn't help too much," I scratched the back of my head.

"At least thank him for the effort,"

"I did,"

"Good. Come in, Ivan. Would you like a cup of tea?" she offered.

"Ah. Thanks," Ivan replied as he cut through me and entered my house.

My mother poured some Earl Grey tea into an empty cup while she told me "Alfred, go change into something dry."

I nodded and went upstairs, hoping that she won't show Ivan my embarrassing baby photos while I was gone. The first time I brought Viet and Maria home, two separate times of course, when I went to grab some snacks, Mum just magically poofed into the living room showing them a picture of me as a baby. I looked so cute, but I had food all over my chubby face, my little hands held a big mac, which looked a lot bigger when a baby held it, and... When the photo was taken, I just got out of the bath, and awesome as I was, I crawled to the dining room and started eating the McDonald's to-go that I found. Papa thought it was cute, so he took a picture. Today, the picture has a small, red smiley-face sticker censoring my vital regions.

With fear of reliving that moment for the third time, I looked down the first floor and sighed with relief. They weren't even talking. To make sure it stayed that way, I rushed to my closet and changed into my Captain America shirt with his logo on it, and a random pair of shorts in a flash. I took my iPad from my desk and hurried back.

Ivan was drinking tea and Mum was still reading. Perfect.

I sat under a tall floor lamp and loaded the app.

"Ready, Ivan?"

He stood up and sat in front of me with his iPhone.

"Are you sure you want to play? I always beat you in this game," he said with the theme song playing in the background.

"Not always," I smirked.

The first thing I did in the game was build a power plant, then train nine Peacemakers while infiltrating the enemy base with my tanks. I didn't get how my tanks were no match for Ivan's barrage of tesla coils. Later, I realized that my base was being attacked by an army of bears. Yes, bears, because he's not awesome enough for attack dogs. Wait, how did a swarm of bears get past my prism towers? It should have zapped them to death in one shot. I was stupid for not noticing that Ivan had destroyed my prism towers with his Apocalypse tanks and Tesla Troopers. Ivan got mecha robot things and I didn't? I sent some of my Javelin Soldiers to shoot missiles at them.

I was building my airfield when I overheard my parents from behind us. Papa just got home and walked through the door.

"I'm home, _mon chou!_"

"Please, Francis, not now,"

"Come on, just a quick kiss,"

Allow me to explain. It was a daily routine that whenever he came home from work, the two of them would make out for five minutes before actually talking.

"No, we had a deal,"

"This first, that later, _mon amour,_"

"Go talk to Alfred first!"

"Just a couple seconds,"

"No, you bloody frog-"

"Here they go," I rolled my eyes.

"A unit is under attack," said a voice from my iPad, but I was too distracted by the sounds I heard in the background.

"Oh, François!" Alice moaned.

My face froze in disgust.

"You guys, we have _a visitor_!"

"Not now, Alfred, can't you see we're busy!" she growled.

"Get a room!" I whined.

"My boy, back in France, couples do this in the street," Francis told me.

I stared at them as they ate out each other's faces. Who does French kissing in front of their children and his friends?

"Come on, Ivan. Let's go to _my room_ where it's quiet and where there's privacy," I stressed my words.

"Hold it!" Mum temporarily pushed her snogging partner away. "You two aren't going in a room together alone! Matthew!"

I just realized my brother was standing there the whole time.

"Yes?"

"Make sure you keep an eye on these two,"

"Okay,"

I glanced at my iPad when I saw that a fleet of Kirov Airships were dropping bombs at my base.

"Victory is mine!" Ivan exclaimed.

"Commie bastard! No fair, I was distracted!"

"You _chose_ to be distracted,"

"I demand a rematch!"

Ivan turned his phone off and put it in his pocket. He got up and headed for the door.

"I need to go. Katyusha is probably looking for me. I'll see you tomorrow, then. We can have the rematch at my place,"

"Alfred!" Mum yelled.

"What?"

"You can't come unless Matthew's coming too,"

"You don't need to worry, Mum! We're not going to play that joke on you again,"

"You promise?" she looked at me with pleading eyes.

"I never break a promise,"

"Alright,"

"Well, see ya!" I put a hand on Ivan's shoulder and said under my breath "I never promised that we won't play it on your sister,"

"Very funny, Alfred," he smiled and walked out.

"But we'll have to make the joke more believable next time," he laughed, even if he meant what he just said.

* * *

><p>"Alfred, remember when you were younger, I told you what happens when two people love each other very much?"<p>

"Pops, I'm not gay for Ivan,"

So this was the punishment Alice was talking about. The 'talk' was awkward enough when I was like twelve! It wouldn't be as bad if Francis wasn't such a perv!

"I don't like it when you lie," he sighed.

"I'm not lying. Ivan and I are just _friends_! ...Who hate each other's guts!"

"No need to deny it. When your mother and I were younger-"

"Not this story!" I whined.

"She would always call me a bloody frog and tell me how much she hated me," he was telling me the story anyway.

"C'mon! You know that what happened Friday night was just a prank!"

"But I saw you-"

"I was doing my homework in my underwear because it was hot and Ivan just barged in, so I attacked him!"

"Onhonhon, how did you 'attack' him?" he leaned in with curiosity.

"I tried to strangle him," I answered.

"Ah, just like your mother did to me when-"

"I don't wanna know!" I covered my ears.

"I still need to uh, 'punish' you for your behavior,"

"Lalalalalala! I can't hear you,"

"Don't give me that attitude, Alfred. Just listen," he sighed.

I jumped off my unmade bed and sprinted to the door. I turned the knob, which wouldn't budge, although it was unlocked.

"Matt! Matt, bro, save me!" I cried as I desperately shook the cold knob in my hands.

"Alfred, my dear, you cannot escape your punishment," I heard a woman from behind the door say.

"Mother?" I gasped.

She was stronger than I thought. She was only that strong when she wanted to be, and I couldn't open the door.

"So, where was I?" Papa asked himself.

Ivan, get your commie butt over here and kill me now.

"Oui, so about fifteen years ago..."

The following content is censored due to mature themes and the fact that Francis is telling the story. If you want to know what happened, read another FrUK fanfiction.


	6. Chapter 6: Matthew Has A Hockey Stick

** I suddenly got the urge to rename Chapter 4: "Don't Steal My Fries Again" to "You Can Stand Under My Umbrella." Now I have the song stuck in my head. The chapter didn't even have much to do with fries. So this chapter is more for the America x Belarus shippers. That's actually an important part of the plot I didn't even mean to give this story a plot but it just came to me. If you want more RusAme fluff, please send a review. If you are a RoChu shipper like me, wait until the later chapters, maybe I'll write something. Just maybe. **

**Sorry for the long Author's Note and I don't own anything.**

**Just so you know, I read every single one of my reviews and appreciate them, I'm just too lazy and awkward to send individual thank you replies.**

****Warning: AmericaXBelarus, dream sequence, short chapter****

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><p><p>

**Chapter 6: Why He Entered My Room With a Hockey Stick That Night**

I allowed myself to relax in my black leather couch, examining the Pop Art decorative images of superheroes that hung on my wall. The lights were turned off, but in that time of the afternoon, enough sunlight penetrated my blinds, giving off just the right amount of brightness in my New York City apartment. There was a little boy snuggled against me, eating fries while watching Spiderman on my LCD TV.

Against my own free will and out of instinct, I ruffled the little boy's pale blond hair and he looked at me with his light purple eyes, smiling. It was uncanny, how he reminded me so much of someone I knew. I watched him put another fry in his mouth when the doorbell rang. He instantly hopped off the couch and excitedly reached for the doorknob. Since he was too tiny to reach it, I opened the door myself and saw another familiar face greet me.

"Hi, Alfred. It's been a while since I last saw you," said the woman behind the door.

There was something about her face...and her rack...that looked so familiar. She looked older than the last time I saw her. This time, she even wore makeup and grew her hair down to her shoulders.

"Auntie Katyusha! I missed you soooo much!" the little boy said cheerfully as he hugged her leg.

Auntie Katyusha? As in Ivan's hot sister? That was probably why the kid looked so much like him. But since when did Ivan have a kid? Then again, I lived in an apartment in New York, so this must be the future.

"Oh! Um, come in," I said to Katyusha.

She giggled a bit and followed me inside.

"Let's go, Daddy!" I heard the kid say.

Ivan was here too? Since when?

"Daddy! Come on, you said we were gonna watch Spiderman together!" he started tugging on my shirt.

Wait. He meant me? But he was like the spitting image of Ivan. Does that mean that the two of us...

"Ivan...m-me and Ivan are...are..." I stuttered out loud without thinking.

Katyusha gave me a confused glance and the kid still tugged on my shirt.

"Does that mean we're...that we did...or maybe...n-no way..." I was still in shock when somebody opened the front door.

It was Ivan, and apparently, he hadn't outgrown his habit of barging in my doors.

"Brother, you finally came!" a voice said happily and another lady ran towards Ivan.

She wrapped her arms around him, then he kissed her in the cheek and said "Long time no see, Natasha,"

Did he just kiss her without throwing up? Well, this was the future.

Right on cue, the mini Ivan went up to his adult counterpart and just grinned at him.

"And how's my favorite nephew? I brought presents for you if you want them," he kneeled down and smiled at the boy.

And did he just say nephew?

What a relief. He wasn't ours. How was that even possible in the first place? But if Ivan was his uncle and Katyusha was his aunt...and I'm his father...that meant... Oh crap.

I felt someone grab me from behind. Everything was so unbelievable, my eyes focused on the little kid in front of me. I noticed a pair of slender arms wrapped around my body, and I felt the cold blade of a knife caress my cheek. Lucky for me, it wasn't the sharp side.

"You better not be trying to take my Alfred away, especially you, Brother,"

My head was being squished between the flat side of a kitchen knife and Natalya's cheek. Some of her soft platinum blonde hair got on my face, and I hated to admit that it smelled nice, like flowers and vodka. Her chin rested on my shoulder as I heard her say under her cold breath "I won't let Big Brother steal my Alfie. Right?"

I started trembling everywhere, repeating the same panicky words in my head "At least it's not Ivan, At least it's not Ivan..."

The knife slid down my face, thankfully without cutting me. Natalya then held it with her other hand and started cleaning her nails with it, and the knife was ten inches long. The mini Ivan ran up to her and said with a sweet voice "Mama, can I play with your knife too?"

_Play_ with a knife?

"No, buddy, this is my knife. What happened to the cleaver I gave you for your birthday?" Natalya smiled at her...our son while tapping on the blade of her knife. The thought made me shudder. It was either the fact that she smiled, or that we had a kid together, or both.

Hold on, she gave him a _cleaver_?

"But I left it in our neighbor's mailbox," he whined.

I was just plain shocked. And why did that sound so familiar? Cleaver in a mailbox...

"Hahaha, he's such an angel, isn't he?" Ivan giggled. "I wish I had a son like that,"

Ivan, you're insane. Just..._freaking_ insane.

"Here, you can have my metal pipe if you can't find your cleaver,"

"Yay!"

Natalya violently hugged me from behind again.

"Alfred, aren't you happy now that we're _married...married...married...married_..."

Ivan, you're standing in front of me. Kill me now.

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><p>"Go Away! Go Away! Go Away! Go Away!" I screamed multiple times after I jerked up, sitting on my bed. It was still dark outside, and it would hurt my brain to look at the time so I didn't bother doing so. I tried to catch my breath as my heart rate dramatically increased. It skipped a beat when my brother jolted the door and looked around my room, holding a hockey stick. Matthew was being heroic, I was so proud of him.<p>

"Alfred, are you okay? What happened?"

"Th-there was...the TV a-and mini Ivan! Fries! Psycho sister! Cleaver in the mailbox! Marriage! I-it was horrible!" I stuttered.

"It's okay, Al, it was just a dream," he whispered.

"A dream?" I asked with paranoia.

"Just a dream," he nodded.

I never felt so relieved.

"Matt, do me a favor. If I ever marry Ivan's little sister, make sure you stop me from doing so."


	7. Chapter 7: Wake Me Up When It's Winter

**I'm only going to upload fluff chapters that have little to do with the actual plot and can stand alone as oneshots. ChaCha should get more screen time in later chapters.**

**Warning: more dream sequences, reappearance of mini Ivan because he's that adorable, told in Ivan's POV this time, friendship fluff, use of Google Translate, short chapter**

**I put the meanings of foreign words within the narration, so you don't have to scroll up and down for translations. Except for the obvious ones like "da," which I didn't bother writing it like "да," or italicizing it. If anyone speaks Russian, tell me how bad Google Translate failed...or worked depending on the result.**

**This is the most reviews I got in a story, so thank you guys again. I uploaded this fluff chapter as a token of appreciation for your reviews.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: Wake Me Up When It's Winter<strong>

I tried hard not to open my eyes, but that fate was unavoidable. Long ago, I got used to the occasional tremors I felt before drifting off to sleep. Tonight was different. Except when I opened my eyes, it was actually daytime. In fact, the sun was at its highest, and blinding white rays were noticeable through the single window in my artificially lit room. Outside, I could see the new layer of snow covering the lively plants that had just waken up from hibernation. My sunflowers, I saw, were wilting from the cold.

Oh well, I sighed mentally, at least I kept some of them in a vase on my nightstand. For some reason, my left hand was uncomfortable. Slightly numb, and it felt like something was tightly wrapped around it. I closed my eyes once again to sleep, but I still saw what I would have seen with my eyes open, like my eyelids became invisible. How surreal.

The door slowly creaked open and I was still unable to move.

"_Сестра_?" I guessed it was my elder sister, but I was wrong.

It was a small child, my mirror image, only much younger.

"Who are you?" I asked him.

He just looked at me with disturbed eyes and said "You are sick and you're going to die soon."

I looked over to my left and noticed the tall metal stand with an IV bag hooked to it, and a tube connected it to the needle injected in one of my blood vessels in my left hand.

"I can see that," I told him, "I can also see that it's snowing near the end of spring,"

"Do you wonder why you're sick or what you're disease is? Do you think the weather is normal?" he asked me with a dead tone.

"I would be if I wasn't busy wondering who you are,"

"Come with me," he said with the same tone, never responding to me properly.

"You just told me that I am sick, so I can't get up. And why would I come with a stranger like you?"

"Did I say you were _bedridden_?"

"I have this IV bag over here and I can't feel my legs,"

The boy walked over to my nightstand and took all the sunflowers from my vase.

"Plastic," he said after sniffing one of them as he rubbed a petal between his thumb and middle finger.

"What are you saying?"

"These are fake," he shoved a flower onto my chest.

"They were real when I put them in the vase,"

"They're _plastic_," he said once again and took my hand.

He literally dragged me out of bed effortlessly and without any pain, the needle slipped out of my hand and the other constraints disappeared. I still wasn't able to feel my legs, but I saw them walk along with the boy. We left my room and entered what should have been a cramped space with a small TV and two living room chairs, but instead, it was a long, narrow hallway of what looked like a hospital.

"Can I just go back to sleep?" I ask him.

"_Нет_," he refused while pulling my arm and controlling my legs.

"_Вы говорите русский_?" I asked him if he spoke my language.

He did not answer, but assumed that he did speak Russian, unless the only word he knew was "no."

"Where are you taking me?"

Still no answer. All I heard was the echo of a footstep and the next thing I knew, we were outside, where it suddenly looked like a blizzard had passed by. The snow was at least twenty-five centimeters thick.

"If you want to live, go talk to him," the child ordered, pointing to someone standing on the snow.

I already recognized his face as Alfred, but he was wearing a gray business suit and his glasses were replaced by a domino mask.

"Are you suggesting that I have a fatal disease that can only be cured by 'the hero' over there?" I pressed down on the child's head.

"If you want to live," was his response.

"You say strange things,"

"You have strange thoughts,"

I closed my eyes again, knowing that it was another one of my midnight terrors that I stopped trying to wake up from years ago. My eyelids still seemed to be invisible.

Typical of a dream, I instantly drifted into another scene without an actual transition. Most of the snow was gone and there was a sunflower, which reminded me of the sun itself. It stood alone, but it stood strong and brightly. Everything else was covered in snow, there was even snowfall at the time. I realized that I was holding an umbrella for some reason, so I went up to the poor sunflower and shared my umbrella with it.

"This way, the snow wouldn't bother you," I smiled at it. "You don't happen to be fake, da?"

Once again, there was no transition and I found myself in my bedroom when I opened my eyes. I closed them and saw nothing but darkness. I was actually awake.

Looking out my window again, I saw that there wasn't any snow. In fact, it was so hot, I woke up covered in sweat. But my dream got me thinking, "I should bring an umbrella today, just in case."

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><p>"What is it?" I looked up at the gray clouds, recalling last night's dream.<p>

"Wanna stay for a game of Command and Conquer for a while?"

I closed my umbrella,moved towards Alfred, and said "Why not?"

He naturally smiled at me, and out of the blue, told me "You know, you're not such a bad guy. I kind of feel bad about calling you a psycho commie bastard and all that. Just _kind of_."

"And you're not that big of a jerk either," I said.

"If only we got to know each other better-" we said in unison and made eye contact for a second.

"Th-thanks again for walking me home," he forced out.

"It was nothing. And I have more to tell you...about my dream last night,"

"Like what?" he sat on the railing of his porch.

"Well," I sat next to him, "you were in it."

"What did I do?" he asked with excitement.

"I don't know, you just stood in the snow. But you were wearing a superhero mask and a formal suit,"

"Whoa! A suit like Superman's when he's Clark Kent? And a superhero mask, for real?" he fell backwards off the railing in excitement, but I grabbed his arm before his head fell in the mud.

"Thanks again, bro! So, what else?"

"There was a weird kid in my dream and he told me that I was sick and I was going to die. And then he said that I had to talk to you if I wanted to live,"

"Sounds scary. Was the kid a ghost or something? But it was just a dream, right?"

"Da, just a dream. But I realized something. He said if I wanted to '_live_,' not if I wanted to '_survive_,'"

"Like when people say, 'Not only do I exist, I _live_,'?"

"Something like that. And to be honest, sometimes I have more fun trying to kill you than when I spend time with my other friends. _Sometimes_,"

"Same here. 'Sometimes,' I mean,"

"Does this mean we'll be spending more time together?" I placed my hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess so," he patted my back once and got off the railing.

I was going to say "You remind me of the sunflower in my dream that I shared an umbrella with. All alone in the freezing rain. That's why I let you stand under my umbrella, even if you were already dripping wet," but Alfred started laughing by himself before I was able to.

I hope he wasn't faking being nice to me.

I watched him unlock his front door, carefully enter, and say "Hey, Mum! Sorry if I'm soaking wet. I didn't know it was gonna rain."

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><p><strong>Hopefully, the mixed up order of events didn't confuse you. The first part was Ivan's dream, mentioned in Chapter 4, and the secondpater happened between Chapters 4 and 5. So think of this as Chapter 4.5.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8: Plan, Tacos, & French Letters

**Prussia makes his appearance in this chapter. I made OC Mexico just so he could laugh at America in that one scene, but he was the one who added to the main plot. So, I might as well tell you how he looks like in this chapter. For the Pinoy readers out there, OC Philippines also gets more screen time in later chapters. Again, they're minor characters, but feel free to criticize- and I mean criticize, not complain about- my OC's. I know there's lack of character development, but they're minor characters, okay.**

**Warning: Alfred steals Francis' French letter, if you know your British slang.**

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><strong><strong>

**Chapter 8.0: The Untold Plan**

"It is sad that Alfred is no longer with us," I told ChaCha as his nonexistent eyes gazed back at me.

I had a staring contest with him while I thought of the plan I was going to tell Alfred about.

_First, he must bring props like clothes to make our act more believable. Then, we go to my place and hide all the possible weapons while Natasha is away for Kung Fu lessons, which scares me because she's already dangerous enough. When she arrives home with Katyusha, Alfred will leave his extra clothes just outside my locked bedroom door. I have to make sure that I have a bunch of furniture blocking the door, in case Natasha tries to kick it down. She really had learned a lot from those lessons with Yao. If Alfred laughs out loud during while acting, I will punch him in the face. He will say that it hurts and that makes the joke more believable._

_Кол кол кол кол кол кол..._

Awesome-Weillschmidt blew his whistle.

"Alright, not-as-awesome-as-me class!" He projected his voice. "According to the curriculum, I'm supposed to force you to run outside today at the big track!"

"Make sure you do not walk and that you run or jog the whole time!" he yelled, "If you run a lap for sixty seconds, that's awesome! If you run the lap for a minute, that's okay."

The people in my class stared at each other and held back laughter.

"Aren't sixty seconds and one minute the same thing?" I overheard some of them whisper.

"Mr. Weillschmidt!" I raised my hand.

"_Ja_, Ivan?" he called out.

"Aren't sixty seconds and one minute the same thing?" I quoted.

Everyone stopped trying to hold it back. They all laughed like Alfred and I when we played the joke on Matthew. Speaking of that joke...

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><p><strong>AN: Gilbert's line about running for 60 seconds and a minute was a paraphrased quote by my own gym teacher. I wanted to make a rage comic, but I don't have a Reddit account, so I put it up here. The only part that actually happened was that line. Nobody actually raised their hand and pointed it out.**

**Yes, I just revealed that Yao will be making an appearance in later chapters. I'll try not to ship RoChu because this is not supposed to be a romance fic. I have some fluff here and there, but that's all Ho Yay.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8.1: Taco Bell<strong>

There I was, in a fast food chain other than McDonald's and Burger King and Wendy's and all those places that sell burgers. Of all places we could have met, why did Ivan pick _Taco Bell_?

It was so weird to be surrounded by the purple walls and lack of hamburgers in the menu. Just being in such a place made my palms sweat, but the feeling that someone was watching me was unbearable. My eyes rolled to my left and I noticed a man sitting in a booth with nothing but a medium sized cup of soda on the table. His face was covered by a book, which was rather suspicious, but everyone knows that you're supposed to use a _newspaper_ when spying on someone. He had dark hair that was a straighter version of Matthew's and there was lock of it sticking out of his head, much like my cowlick, except it was longer and pointed down. He lowered the book a little, revealing his dark eyes that saw through my suspicion.

"José! Were you spying on me?"my finger pointed at his confused face as I accused him.

"Alfred, what are you doing here? You hate Taco Bell," he said casually and placed the book next to his soda.

"You hate it too!" I yelled and a family sitting at a nearby table stared at us.

"That's because my _authentic_ home cooking tastes a lot better,"

"This place doesn't sell any _burgers_!"

I was about to make a rant about how Taco Bell didn't compare to any of the marvelous fast food restaurants like McDonald's, but someone grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into the men's room. I saw a glimpse of Natalya's face as I was dragged away.

The abductor was taller than me and he wore a long, beige trench coat with a scarf wrapped around the bottom half of his head. The only one who would wear something that plain would be a commie, specifically, Ivan Braginsky. I was pushed against a tiled wall with his arm right next to my head. He was leaning towards me, like those guys in the movies when they push a girl against lockers and force her to kiss them.

"It was you, wasn't it? You told José to come here! And you brought your psycho sister along! I thought we were supposed to discuss our plan!" I almost spit on his face.

"We _are_ going to discuss our plan," he told me with a muffled voice, "but don't you want José to meet your 'girlfriend' Natasha?"

"I thought we were 'comrades'!"

"We are. But just because we work together on one thing does not mean we are done working against each other,"

"I see, the prank war isn't over yet,"

Ivan took a step away from me as I detached from the wall. He pulled his scarf down, exposing the rest of his face.

"You let your guard down. This is what you get for lying...and for getting my family involved._ Kol kol kol kol kol.._."

Ivan was being his usual creepy self. I let myself out of the public restroom as he followed me, of course, in a creepy manner. I pulled the glass door open, then Ivan took me by the hood of my jacket and pulled me back inside.

"You're going to introduce your 'girlfriend' to him, da?" he said, almost threatening me.

"That depends. Did you tell your sister that she needs to act like my girlfriend for today?" I asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Ivan laughed and said "Where's the fun in that? What you need to do is improvise!"

That made me want to punch him in the face. So, I did. He returned the favor by kneeing me in the gut, then I fell to the floor. The employees helped me up, and then they forced us out.

I sat on one of the metal outdoor seats, heated by the sun, and Ivan sat next to me. Natalya came out from the restaurant, followed by José who was drinking Pepsi from a straw.

Natalya ran to Ivan, who cringed a little as she gave him a hug.

"Big Brother! Did this" -she glared at me- "obnoxious scumbag hurt you?"

"It's okay. I got it taken care of. You can let go now," Ivan choked out.

She did as he told her, then Ivan looked at José and said "Hi there! Have you met my sister Natalya, or as I call her, 'Natasha'?"

The girl hugged Ivan protectively and glared at José.

"Who are you and how do you know my brother?"

"He's from my school. And are you the non-communist girlfriend Alfred told me about?" José replied and asked straightforward as my heart raced and the rest of my body just wanted to run far, far away.

Natalya's deathly glare went back my direction. I gulped and thought of the many ways she could have smuggled a knife with her. I heard both Ivan and José quietly chuckling in a slightly evil way.

It turned out Natalya was hiding a Swiss army knife in her sleeve and she proceeded to chase me around the parking lot with a tiny blade, which she somehow hid from the surveillance cameras.

"That's what you get for lying, _gringo_," I heard José, who was smirking to himself with Ivan beside him.

"Revenge is sweet, right, comrade?" Ivan had the same look on his face, his eyes followed me while his hand asked José for a fist bump.

His knuckles lightly touched Ivan's, as they both said "The trolling war is not over yet."

And then I learned: frienemies aren't the best allies.

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><p><strong>AN: OC Mexico's ahoge represents Baja California. (Did I get that right? I'm not a geography expert,** **so please correct me.)**

**So basically, the trolling wars go like this: Alfred and Ivan work against each other. Alfred and Ivan work together against Matthew. Ivan and José work together against Alfred. That's how it is so far. Coming up next...Alfred and Ivan work together against Natalya. Was that a spoiler? No, you probably saw it coming.**

**And Ivan chose Taco Bell because he knew that Alfred and José both hated it.**

****

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><p><p>

**Chapter 8.2: The Stolen French Letter**

This part of the story is best told in third person narrative.

"Alice! _Mon amour_! Something is missing!" Alice was working on her embroidery as she heard Francis running down the stairs.

"What is it this time?" she asked, irritated.

"It's gone! I think Alfred took the last one,"

"The last what?"

"I'm sure I kept it in the bottom of my drawer. It has to be stolen!" Francis whined dramatically.

Alice put down her needle and said, slightly amused, "You don't mean that French letter with 'I love Paris' printed on the wrapper?"

"That is exactly the one!" Francis confirmed.

"Are you sure Alfred was the one who took it?"

"Who else? That Ivan boy might be involved as well,"

Alice stood from the recliner, dropping her needlework on the carpet and exclaimed, "Those bloody _wankers_!"

****

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><p><p>

**A/N: Oh look, foreshadowing! I'm pretty sure you guys can predict what's going to happen next. You don't have to tell me whether or not you understand the British slang, just google it**.

**Review, por favor. If any fellow RoChu shippers want a fluff chapter, then review please.**


	9. Chapter 9: Friendship is Magic

**A/N: I know that I haven't updated in months and I don't plan on doing so in a couple more. I have exams coming up and I've been so busy with real life. I was going to write the new chapter for the main plot, but I have writer's block and I'll give you another filler chapter based on some things that happened to me in school (which is what basically fuels this story). This also involves bronies and references to Meanwhile In Russia videos. I'm also not going to put Rochu in here even as a side pairing (despite the fact that I can change the summary and the tags) so it won't be necessary for the rabid RusAme fangirls to poison my coffee.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: Friendship is Magic<strong>

Four words. Math class is boring. It was unbearable enough that my teacher was rambling about parabolas and crap, but he just had to be the guy who lacks so much energy that he teaches half-asleep. He even takes naps on the job!

Whatevs, the hero isn't paying attention. My eyes rolled from left to right and I sneaked my phone out of my pocket. Crap. The battery's dead, so I messily ripped a sheet of paper out of my notebook.

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

"U free tonite?"

Dude, pass this forward. Wait. Paper comes back .

"Why?"

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

"Wanna walk home with me?"

Passing notes like a boss.

"Why?"

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

"Coz I'm bored & Matt doesn't wanna come with me. I was thinking we could go to Mickey D's together -_-"

Crumple the paper. Throw it at his head while Mr. K is writing on the board. Paper comes back.

"Are you asking me out O_o?"

I go silent. 3...2...1...

Take my red pen. Scratch "NO!" across my paper like a boss.

Dude, pass this to him again.

"Alfred, are you passing notes to Ivan?" For once, Mr. Karpusi was awake and he noticed us.

Ivan hid the note under his book.

"You should read it out loud!" A girl in the back of the room suggested. "Demanded" seems to be a better word.

"No, Elizabeta. I don't want to know what these two are talking about in their notes," Mr. Karpusi said drowsily and mumbled something about cats before continuing the lecture.

Later, I found myself doodling pictures of Captain America on my homework when a neatly folded piece of paper arrived at my desk.

"Meet me at the door. And to make myself clear, this is NOT a date. ^J^"

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><p>What's left of my dangerously sweet and a-bit-too creamy milkshake sprayed into my mouth, through the straw, making an annoying slurp noise.<p>

"Stop that. Can't you see that it's empty," Ivan complained.

I sucked more air from the cup, louder than before.

We were in an ice-cream shop across the street. Other than a couple of employees, we were the only ones there. I have bought a chocolate shake, or at least I tricked Ivan into paying for it. For some reason, he still hadn't left and agonizingly waited for me to finish drinking my air.

I could tell from the restless look in his eyes that he was pissed, so I made more slurp noises.

"You're going to get gassy after this," he sighed.

Finally, I took the straw out of my mouth and threw the cup away at a garbage can by the door.

"They put so much much milk in there that I feel kind of sick," I complained. "Let's get fries from McDonald's to make me feel better."

Ivan gave me a confused glance, crossed his arms, and said "Those greasy fries make you feel less sick? I will never understand your logic, Alfred."

"Says the person who went water-skiing on a flooded road!"

"Of course. Why would I go water-skiing on that road if there was no water?"

"I don't get how your mind works! Why are you even waiting for me when I could obviously tell that you don't want to be here?" I yelled at him.

"Because I'm not a jerk like you."

"You just called me a jerk, which makes you a jerk too!"

"You guys should like totally stop fighting already," suddenly, we both looked at the one who interrupted us.

It was a guy of our age with straight blond hair, wearing a pink hoodie and a "Derpy Hooves" t-shirt.

"Like after all, friendship is magic!" he said.

"Feliks, you are such a brony," Ivan stated, not as an insult, but just as if it was another fact.

"Brony and totes proud of it!"

"What are you even doing here? Following us, da?"

"No way. I'm just like waiting for someone. Anyways, you guys totally remind of Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie! Like, one of them acts like a jerk and thinks the other one is annoying... I mean, they don't totally get along sometimes, but they're like really good friends! The other guys even ship them! Like, yuri pairings!"

I don't think either Ivan or myself followed at what the brony was talking about. I didn't even know how to react and Ivan said "I have a cousin named Yuri."

That had nothing to do with what he was talking about, but okay.

"So are you two like on a date or something? Because it totally looks like it. I mean, he was like, and you were like, and they were like..."

"It's none of your business," I told him.

"Seriously though, you look totally cute together-"

"Say that again and I'll bash your head against this table," Ivan sweetly threatened him.

Okay, how do you sweetly _threaten_ someone?

"Ivan, you should like stop being like a bully. Even just like stop being mean to him."

Feliks' voice just mixed in the blurry background of the thoughts I decided to ignore. Ivan, in the other hand, I still listened to as he told me "Let's pretend that this day never happened and get out of here."

That won't be the last time he'll say that to me.


End file.
